


Ghost Soldier

by myneuronarrative



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family, M/M, Pets, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prisoner of War, Prosthetic Arm, Romance, War Veteran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 21:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19732078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myneuronarrative/pseuds/myneuronarrative
Summary: It’s nights like these where Shiro feels like a ghost. Post-military AU.





	Ghost Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote this fic, I had a very specific backstory in mind:
> 
> Shiro is 23 and meets Keith when he’s 18 (visiting his high school as a recruiter). Keith’s had it rough growing up with his mixed race background and absentee birth parents, but Shiro inspires him to turn his life around.
> 
> Shiro then goes on another tour, gets captured, and almost spends a year as a prisoner. He is honorably discharged, and he now wears a prosthetic arm due to losing one of his limbs. When he’s 25 (near 26), he meets Keith again, who’s almost 21 and working as a mechanic. They quickly form a romantic relationship and get married more than a year later (Shiro’s 27 and Keith’s 22).
> 
> Over time, though, Shiro expresses complex PTSD symptoms from his time spent as a POW. Shiro and Keith go to couples therapy, Shiro goes to extensive individual therapy (twice a week), and they adopt an emotional support animal (a black cat named Shadow). Eventually, they adopt their daughter, Sarah, when she’s an infant from a young couple who didn’t plan their pregnancy and couldn’t afford an abortion.
> 
> In this fic, Shiro’s a year away from 40, Keith is 34, and Sarah is 5.

It was 11:05 p.m. and Shiro was having nightmares again.

It was the silence that startled him most. A past eruption reverberated in the side of his head. After that, the quiet unnerved him. It was as though the dust settled and clung to his skin, sailing over the waves of dyspnea that roused his chest. The fan above cooled his sweaty skin. He rested his feet on the carpet, but it still felt like hot sand. The textured ceiling dripped with dirt, bugs crawling on the walls. The pink, razing sky flashed inside his head again, glowing behind his shut eyelids.

Light spilled into the room. A shadow hopped onto the bed, sauntering towards Shiro and nuzzling her head into the palm of his prosthetic arm. Shiro smiled wanly, petting his cat’s head.

“Daddy?”

Shiro turned his attention turned to the little girl in the doorway. The cat continued snuggling into Shiro’s hand.

“Sarah?”

The girl was about five. Standing beside her was his tired husband, donning a stained gray T-shirt and flannel pants.

“See, I told you he was having bad dreams,” the girl said smartly.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Shiro asked.

“I heard you from my room,” Sarah said. “So, I brought Dad. He always makes me feel better when I have a bad dream.”

“It’s a good thing she woke me up,” Keith said, stretching backward. “Sleeping on the couch hurts my back.”

Shiro chuckled and beckoned both of them to him. Sarah ran to her daddy and hugged him, immediately climbing into his lap and sitting on his thigh. Shiro’s breath hitched as he held his daughter, rocking her gently as she leaned into him. The bed dipped down from behind him, and he felt Keith run his hand up his back. Keith kissed Shiro’s neck, resting his head against Shiro’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry for waking you two up,” Shiro said.

“Hush,” Keith said. “We’re here now.”

Shiro still felt the dust in his eyes, still felt the numbness in his arm seemingly eat him whole. The cat, affectionately named Shadow, purred into his intricately-decorated hand. A loving gesture to the average pet owner made his neck erupt in goose-skin.

Shadow hopped in between Shiro and Keith. She looked down and then looked at Keith, mewing repeatedly.

“You idiot,” Keith said. “You can hop down at any time.”

Shadow reached up and kneaded her paws into Keith’s arm. He winced and picked her up, setting her down.

“You’re not supposed to call someone the I word,” Sarah said.

“You’re right, honey,” Shiro said, smirking. “Keith should know better by now.”

“Oh, hush.” Keith swatted at Shiro with a pillow, making him laugh and their little girl giggle with a wide, slightly-toothless smile.

The clock flashed 11:40 p.m. Shiro sighed and stretched his arms over both Keith and Sarah.

“Well, I really am sorry I woke both of you up,” Shiro said. “We all need to go back to bed.”

“Do you want us to sleep with you?” Sarah asked.

Shiro and Keith exchanged amused looks with one another.

“Why do you ask, honey?” Keith asked.

“Because you let me sleep in the big bed when I’m upset,” Sarah said matter-of-factly. “I don’t like Daddy having nightmares.”

“She makes a good point, Daddy,” Keith said in a lovey-dovey tone.

Shiro retaliated by swatting the same pillow at Keith, making him double over laughing. Sarah giggled at both of her dads, her eyes smiling like the rest of her. Shadow ambled away from the bed. When Sarah reached down to pet her, the cat ran away.

Sarah pouted slightly. “Stupid cat.”

“Now, what was that about saying bad words?” Keith pulled Sarah into the pile, everyone laughing and cuddling together.

Slowly, the cachinnation settled down. Sarah curled into her dad’s chest, her pigtails tickling his arm. Keith rested on his other side, kissing Shiro’s cold fingers. He wasn’t entirely made of skin, but Keith always knew how to make him feel warm. Shiro looked out the window as his family slowly adjusted to a midnight’s rest.

Outside, the snowy ground still looked like a sloped, clay-colored terrain.

**Author's Note:**

> God, this story was long overdue. This was originally meant to be a gift to fellow Sheith-shipper, yasmines (cannot find them on here anymore)—a “Sheithcret” santa gift, to be exact.
> 
> Well, it took me MONTHS to write this for various reasons (poor time management due to college, executive dysfunction and poor mental health, and not watching Voltron due to being disenchanted with the fanbase). So, I’m incredibly sorry for the overdue Christmas gift. Consider it a Christmas in July gift!
> 
> Either way, I hope this fic still suffices. I worry that this feels aimless and underwritten, but I still deeply enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it, too, fellow Sheith shippers!


End file.
